


When He Speaks His Name

by mitslits



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: doomed timeline/wrong dimension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 14:56:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8582758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: Harry was never supposed to die. The world slowly dies with him. Eggsy can sense something has gone wrong but he can't put his finger on exactly what it is and, what's worse, nobody around him seems to notice anything is wrong.





	

It starts with Harry’s death. Of course, most of the events after that aren’t nearly as dramatic or earth-shattering as the world going batshit and trying to kill itself but it’s in the little things and little things add up. 

Eggsy first notices it in Michelle. He knows her well, after all, knows the way she acts, the way she speaks, the way she thinks. Nothing is as much an alarm as family. 

Michelle has bruises. That’s nothing out of the ordinary, not for her. But these are different. They’re fainter, dim, almost like they’re miles under her skin instead of just at the surface. She doesn’t wince when she brushes against them. And when Eggsy points one out to ask about it, it’s like she doesn’t even notice it’s there. 

It next appears in Merlin, in Roxy. Merlin throws himself into work, his way of coping with everything that’s happened. He never seems to rest, or eat. Eggsy jokes that his clipboard has become attached to him. But once Eggsy notices it, he can’t stop seeing it. He scans back through his memory and there’s nothing, no time he can recall actually seeing Merlin separated from it. One day Eggsy can’t stand the uncertainty anymore, orders Merlin to put it down. 

Merlin blinks at him and refuses. 

Roxy refuses to listen to Eggsy speak about Harry. Every time he tries, she cuts him off, something in her eyes that Eggsy can’t quite identify. It takes him weeks, months even, before he finally figures out what it is. Fear. 

Soon it seems to infect everyone else. Strangers start quarrels over nothing or walk through the streets with a glassy-eyed apathy. Gloom covers the city like a blanket, the blank oppression seeming to seep into their very bones. Children don’t laugh. Dogs don’t bark. Silence becomes like a second skin, rarely broken. 

Eventually Eggsy even notices it within himself. There’s a static in his head, burrowing into his brain, becoming an itch. It turns his thoughts fuzzy and unreachable, sends him shuffling through his days with in the same stupor that seems to have overtaken everyone else. 

Color seems to leach out of things, objects, people, the world sliding into a quiet shade of grey. 

The only relief Eggsy gets is when he says Harry’s name. For that breath of a second red, blue, green burst back into vivid reality, the scratching at the inside of his head quiets. So he whispers it over and over like a prayer, ignores Roxy’s loathing, Merlin’s ignorance, his own mother’s accusations that he’s gone insane. 

Something isn’t right. And Eggsy is the only one who knows it.


End file.
